


Cherry's Matchmaking Service #100

by HockeyMatchmaking



Series: Cherry's Matchmaking Service [21]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Cherry's Matchmaking Service, M/M, Rare Pairings, Short Stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:34:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HockeyMatchmaking/pseuds/HockeyMatchmaking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finally! It's here, all the heartbreak, toil, smoking and drinking that the 100th short story in a series deserves! </p>
<p>Kesler was silent as he sat on the bench, and for a moment there was no movement from the pair, besides Raymond drawing in smoke and Kesler clenching and unclenching his hands. “And you can’t forgive him?” The burly Canucks forward growled in response and Raymond stomped his foot. “No, I can’t just fucking forgive him!” The small forward shouted and Kesler leapt to his feet, anger fueling his speed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherry's Matchmaking Service #100

**Author's Note:**

> This took me so long to write...Seriously, you don't even know how long this took.
> 
> This can be read separately, but it is the 100th in a series, so it might make a bit more sense if you read the others first.
> 
> It all takes place during the day of Bieksa's birthday. This was written last year, so blame it may not be completely current (with trades, etc.)

Mason Raymond propped his feet up on his couch, his back protesting as he sighed and flipped the channels on the TV.  Nathan Horton rubbed his knee in a gesture of affection and all was calm for a moment, but only for that moment: because soon enough, all hell would break loose.

Horton jumped to his feet when the door was knocked on rather forcefully, and all Raymond could hear was a low, harsh conversation for a moment before the now sullen Bruin reappeared, “He says he wants to see you. You want pasta?” Horton asked, pecking Raymond on the lips in an attempt to claim him before the visitor, which of course intrigued Raymond greatly.

“Of course I want pasta, with plenty of sauce this time please.” The skinny Canuck smiled as Horton slowly walked to the kitchen, nervously glancing over his shoulder every few steps.

Horton finally was gone from sight and the visitor moved so Raymond could see whom it was. “Taylor Hall?” The forward exclaimed, surprised and Hall grinned. “Everyone tells me I look like you, and now I see it.” The Oilers forward said casually and Raymond frowned, then quirked an eyebrow, sitting up and turning the TV off. 

“What do you want?” The injured Canuck inquired, a bit annoyed by the interruption. Hall shifted nervously again and smiled a little. “Uh, I was wondering if you wanted to attend the birthday party for Bieksa, I was invited by Volpatti and Kesler asked me to invite you.” The Edmonton player grinned hesitantly as Raymond’s expression darkened. 

“I don’t know…Bieksa…uh…” Raymond trailed off as the image of “that” time in the stretcher flashed in his mind. Hall raised his hands and murmured something along the lines of, “Doesn’t matter to me man, I just had to deliver the message.” Then, as suddenly as he’d appeared, Hall was gone and Raymond was confused.  
The small Canuck really didn’t want to face Burrows and Bieksa, his two least favourite people, although some days Raymond mused and thought that maybe they were his favourite and he just didn’t want to admit it.

Horton came back with his food and he wondered no longer, instead he ignored the whole issue as Raymond waited for a time that was better for thinking. Blocks away, a whistling Hall wandered down the street, a few drinks in him as he had completed his mission. As Hall stumbled back into his hotel room, he realized he had a dark, mysterious visitor sitting on his bed.

“What’d ya want?” The drunk forward inquired and the man sitting on his bed raised an eyebrow. “You been drinking, Taylor?”  Aaron Volpatti stepped forward to help Hall change his clothes. “You deliver the note?” The Canuck inquired and Hall nodded, smiling. Soon, Hall was fast asleep on the bed and Volpatti still sat up, awake into the night, plotting.

Far away, the object of all the commotion sat up and scratched his head, before getting up and going to the washroom. Like any man he forgot to wash his hands, and when he started to get back into bed, the lump on the opposite side of the king sized bed moved and grumbled. “Damn it, Bieksa. Wash your hands.”

Kevin Bieksa sighed and got up again, washed his hands well and then returned and the lump accepted him with a sigh. After a moment of silence Bieksa spoke. “You awake, Kes?” The lump groaned again and replied. “No Bie, I’m not.” Then Ryan Kesler muttered something along the lines of “Bastard.” 

“You awake enough now?” Bieksa inquired, sticking his tongue in Kesler’s ear. The Vancouver forward jumped, and slowly turned over to hit the d-man on his head. “Hey! It’s my birthday you know!” Bieksa whined and Kesler picked up the alarm clock. It read 4:47. “Is not. Go back to bed.” The lump of a forward replied, almost hitting the d-man with the clock on his way to setting it back down.

Kesler groaned as Bieksa pouted and kissed him awake again. “It is too my birthday! And I get to choose what I want to do! You said so your self.” The d-man grinned evilly as Kesler muttered ‘bastard’ under his breath again. The forward sighed and turned over, somewhat waking up, and if Kes wasn’t awake at the start, he most certainly was awake by the time they were done.

Some distance away, another pair plotted the birthday of Kevin Bieksa. “Come on Burr, up ya get.” One Frenchman shook another awake. 

“Not unless I’m getting something out of the deal.” The sleepy one replied; turning over to look at the clock, only to discover it wasn’t yet 5:30. Maxim Lapierre grinned and shook the other Frenchman yet again. “You aren’t getting anything out of the deal, but if you get up, I wont take the blankets off in 5, 4, 3, 2—” Alexander Burrows growled and cuddled deep into his blankets, half sitting up.

“Lappi.” Burrows whined, noticing how dark it was outside. “Ah, you forget, we have yet to buy Kev a present and we’re in charge of getting him a cake.” Lapierre replied with a grin as Burrows groaned. “Coffee?” The sleepy Frenchman inquired hopefully and the other shook his head knowingly, “Yeah, put it on an hour ago.” Burrows frowned again. “But I thought an hour ago we were…” Burrows stopped at the look Lapierre gave him and shrugged as the other Frenchman tried to pull off his blankets. 

A scuffle ensued, that ended with a very pissed off Burrows letting go of the blanket. “Hey! Give those back! Ass.” Burrows shot Lapierre one last dirty look as he finally got up and stretched, Lapierre admiring the view before Burrows realized he didn’t have any clothing on.

In a cramped hotel room, a burly man grumbled and rolled over as the smaller man next to him sneezed. The man who’d sneezed’s eyes flew open and he ran to grab a tissue as sneezes attacked him one after another.

“I told you, it’s uncanny.” Cory Schneider grumbled, wandering back to the bed. “It’s better than an alarm clock, every single freaking day, at exactly 6:34 am, I sneeze.” The Canucks backup goalie slid back into the welcoming arms of Tim Thomas, who just chuckled.

The next floor up another Canucks goalie was also currently occupying space in a hotel room. “What do you mean, birthday?” Roberto Luongo frowned, “I thought Bieksa’s birthday was in January.” Raffi Torres laughed and shook his head, edging closer to the goalie. 

“Naw, Kev was born in June.” Torres replied and Luongo just gave him a look, so Torres searched Wikipedia and found the Canuck. “See?” The ex-Canuck inquired and Luongo just grunted. 

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll just get him what I get him every year; a toaster.” The Vancouver goalie shrugged, Luongo didn’t really care about birthdays, or holidays, unless they were religious or his own. 

Torres quirked an eyebrow, “Seriously Lou? A toaster?” The disbelieving ex-Canuck shook his head in joking mild disgust.

“Yup, I don’t see a problem with that, it’s practically a tradition, with about 6 years of clout behind it.” Loui leaned into Torres who shifted to put an arm around the goalie. Torres sighed. “Lou, what would Bieksa do with 7 toasters?”

“Good question, I don’t ask things like that. I’d rather not know.” Luongo replied cheerfully and Torres just shook his head again.

Above the heads of most, flew a pair that was on a mission to be on time for Bieksa’s birthday. 

They had caught the red eye plane just to make sure they got there on time, and were currently involved in activities on said plane that probably are better kept well away from.

“Schenn.” The one man said a considerable time later. “Yes Cros?” Luke Schenn replied cheerfully as he buttoned up his shirt. Sidney Crosby grinned and drew the curtain aside of their little cabin on the plane. “Who knew these fancy little area’s existed?” The Penguin grinned and Schenn cocked an eyebrow. “I hope you’re referring to the plane.” The Maple Leaf replied dryly and Crosby stuck out his tongue, but didn’t respond. 

“Man, it’s early.” Schenn sighed, yawning and crossing his legs at the same time. “Yup.” Crosby replied with a smile and Schenn grumbled some more. Soon the pair drew the curtain back again and even the turbulence didn’t disturb them from what they were doing.

Already landed and safely in a nice hotel were another pair. 

“Don’t look under the rug, no one dusts under there.” The man exploring the room coughed and hacked as the other man just watched him fastidiously check every corner and every rug.  “Just as I thought. Alright, but they still don’t think to dust the place.” The man grumbled, untying his shoes to settle in. The other man piped up in defense of the hotel. “Oh, I’m pretty sure they dusted, you just stirred it all up.”

Pekka Rinne shrugged and finally came to the bed. “Rin. Come on. Rest. We have to be up at 2 pm to go to Kesler’s thingy.” And at the voice of his captain, the paranoid goalie calmed down a little. As Rinne snuggled up to Shea Weber, his fear and excitement grew a little again, like a little kid he was looking forward to the day to come and he wasn’t sure whether he could get to sleep in such a strange place. 

“Webs…you’ll be here, right?” Rinne commented sleepily, his mind almost asleep, as he wanted to be assured once more. Weber sighed, mumbling a yes before going back to sleep. 

Already out walking down the street was another strange pair, one tall, pale man held hands with a shorter, but still tall, darker man. As the pair walked they commented on presents they could buy Bieksa. 

“How about a Kesler sized dress?” The pale man suggested, earning a playful elbow from the other. “If we got him a Kesler sized dress, it would have to be lacy…and pink.” Tyler Seguin grinned as he added to the joke and it was Victor Oreskovich’s turn to elbow him. “How about a toaster? Oh, no, wait. Lou has dibs on that.” The Canuck commented and Seguin shot him an odd look that Oreskovich replied to with: “I’ll tell you later.”

“Oooh…Let’s go in here! I bet we can find something Kev would love!” Oreskovich grinned and bit his lip as Seguin shot him yet another dirty look at the suggestion, but slowly nodded agreement. The pair proceeded to trapeze into a triple X store that was open. The receptionist looked up from reading a book to murmur a welcome and Oreskovich leaned forward and quietly inquired, “Why are you open so early?”

The woman looked up and boredly replied, “Most of our cliental don’t want people to know they ‘re here.” And then she went back to reading.  The Canuck shrugged and went to look at a rack of outfits. “What about this?” Oreskovich inquired, holding up a tight black vinyl outfit. Seguin frowned and made a so-so motion. “Maybe if Kes was a chick?” The Bruin asked/answered and Oreskovich laughed, returning the outfit to the rack.

The pair finally found the perfect thing and both laughed their way out of the store.

Another ways away, two men ate breakfast with another pair.  “So then I said; you wanna take this outside?” Two of the other men laughed as one looked confused. “Ed. He wanted to fight, ‘take this outside’ is a euphemism for ‘come fight me’.” Jannik Hansen patiently explained before taking another sip of his coffee.

The Canuck made a face and added another sugar to the already sweet drink. “So what’d you two get Kev?” Alexander Edler asked, trying to change the conversation away from the English language. “Can’t tell you, it’s a secret.” Manny Malhotra stuck out his tongue as he smiled. “Why, what did you get him?” Malhotra’s partner Keith Ballard inquired curiously and Edler mimed zipping his lips shut.

“Oh man, and bring your own cake, Burrows and Lappi are supposed to get the cake.” Hansen added, as he remembered they were supposed to pick up drinks. “What kind of alcohol does Kev prefer?” Hansen asked after the other’s stopped laughing at the thought of the two Frenchmen picking out a cake. 

Malhotra shot him a look and replied, “Beer.” Ballard picked up on his friend’s confusion and voiced the question all the others were thinking. “How come you don’t know?” Hansen shrugged, “I’m usually too wasted to remember what type of anything I ordered, let alone someone else.” The Canuck grinned as Edler shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he remembered that one time in the hotel room, and then that other time in the locker room, there had definitely been many orders given those nights.

They all laughed at the look on Edler’s face and soon forgot all about buying drinks…

Elsewhere, another pair was still in their warm, comfortable bed. One smiled as they turned to kiss the other yet again.

The one leaned into the kiss and murmured a noise of longing as the other broke away. “Come on Burmi, we gotta get up.” The one smiled as the other groaned and shifted so he was lying on top of the one who mentioned getting up.

“But Toka. Think of all the things we could do in a few moments of time!” Aleksandr Burmistrov muttered, kissing the older man again as the man squirmed beneath him. “We gotta get this Kevin Bieksa fellow a present and be there by 4.” Dustin Tokarski said, raising his eyebrows as the Jet began exploring under the sheets. 

“Oh alright, another hour, you think that’ll be enough time?” The goalie mumbled, his voice squeaking a little as the forward found a very sensitive area and began stroking and scratching it. “You tell me.” Burmistrov replied, grinning as Tokarski flipped him over so the goalie was on top. 

In a nearby hotel room a pair of goalies were sitting on a bed talking to each other. 

“Reims, you seriously prepared a speech?” The one said incredulously and the other shrugged. “Be prepared, that’s my motto.” James Reimer grinned widely and the other goalie just shook his head. “What gift did you get Bieksa?” Jonathan Bernier inquired and the Maple Leaf just smiled, “Do I want to know?” The Kings goalie then asked in response to the predatory grin.

“Probably not, although I will tell you I gave him a GNOC sticker.” Reimer casually leaned across the bed and pulled Bernier over to lie next to him. “We have stickers?” Bernier raised an eyebrow.  “Yup, and we also have hats, didn’t I give you one? Dang, sorry man.” The Torontonian goalie grinned. “I also have a multicoloured coat picked out, just for the occasion.” Reimer mentioned and Bernier raised one eyebrow and said. “Really? Do I have to wear one too?” To which Reimer shook his head. “How’d we get invited to this again?” Bernier asked drolly as he shifted a little on the bed to be comfortable. “Oh, that’s simple. Schneider mentioned it at GNOC and I twisted his arm into explaining the whole thing to me and letting me invite anyone I wanted.” Reimer cheerfully explained and the L.A. goalie just looked shocked. 

“So…who’d you invite?” Bernier sighed and asked another question as Reimer snuggled his face into the other goalies chest. “I invited you, myself, Dion Phaneuf, Pekka Rinne, Antti Niemi, Luke Schenn, Phil Kessel, Ryan Getzlaf, Ryan Nugent-Hopkins, Carey Price, Ben Scrivens, Tuuka Rask, and Dustin Tokarski.”

Bernier just gaped at the other man for a long moment before he hugged him and said. “Remind me never to get on your bad side, how many people do you know?!” The Kings goalie smiled a little as Reimer growled and kissed him. “Many, many people.” Was Reimer’s mysterious response as Bernier turned over to allow for his clothes to be taken off.

Over in a department store two men argued and the loser kept having to kiss the winner and vice versa, thus they were no where near completing their mission to find a present for the one man’s teammate Bieksa.

“We should get him a vase.” The one man suggested and the other just gave him a look. “Oh, alright, how about we give him…uh…let’s go look there!” The man smiled and the other frowned for a moment then nodded.  

Joe Thornton smiled as they waded through the crowd of shoppers to the store and the Canuck with him just frowned. “Lighten up, Sedy, it’s your friend’s birthday.” The Sharks Captain lightly kissed the Canucks captain, who blushed and almost shushed the other man. 

“Thorny, not in public.” Henrik Sedin finally hissed, angry, but flattered. The Sedin captain shook his head and glanced around nervously before kissing the Shark back. “Mmm. Righto, present.” Thornton broke off with a murmur as the Sedin sighed.

The pair almost made it into the store, but Henrik spotted a quiet corner with a conveniently placed tree and so they made their way over to neck a little. The adrenaline of the rebelliousness of it all intrigued the pair, after a while they emerged, clothing a little off but otherwise intact.

As they finally made their way into the store Thornton laughed at the though of Bieksa’s face when he opened the present from them…

Elsewhere a man was groggily waking up to find himself staring at a small sheet of paper, he groaned and frowned before the paper came into focus and he read it. “Look to your right?” He mumbled, slowly following the instructions to find a dark shape standing in his bedroom. “Fuck, you scared me Reese.” He said sighing as the fear drained out of him.

Patrice Bergeron happily laid down next to the frightened, half-awake man. “Come on Stam, up you get.” The happy Bruin smiled at the angry man lying beside him. “Manh, Reese, get me coffee.” Steven Stamkos groaned, not yet awake. “Either that or make me getting up worth while somehow.” The Lightning player put a pillow over his head as the Bruin thought. 

“Nope, can’t think of anything worth while besides coffee, isn’t it good I brought a extra large cup with me? Steaming hot still, although it wont be for much longer.” Bergeron taunted and Stamkos slowly sat up, his head spinning a little.

“All right, why are you waking me up?” The Tampa Bay player inquired after a moment and the Bostonian frowned and shrugged. “Thought you’d want up, seeming as that thingy for that Canuck is today.” Bergeron raised an eyebrow as Stamkos shrugged. “Dunno if I wanna go, although I guess we should, we’re here anyway…and Chara did tell you to come.” The Lightning replied and Bergeron chuckled.

“That’s funny, I could’ve sworn it was you telling me to come last night, although I suppose you get mistaken for Chara a lot, given that you look so much like him.” The sarcasm of the statement was not lost on Stamkos, who stuck out his tongue. “Bah, what did you get the Canuck?” Stamkos sipped his coffee and almost spit it out. “No milk? Geeze Reese.” The Lightning player frowned and Bergeron quickly grabbed the cup and set it over, the Bruin leaned forward quickly to embrace Stamkos. 

“Mm. You don’t need to get upset over a little thing like that.” Bergeron whispered, nibbling on the Tampa Bay player’s ear. Stamkos moaned and shifted so that he was pressed tight against the Bruin.

Elsewhere a pair smiled at each other as they walked down the street, hand in hand. “Can we get coffee, Luc?” The one asked the other, who just smiled. “Sure, Ni.”

The pair swerved to walk into the coffee shop. The somewhat sleepy pair ordered coffees and sat down to wait was they discussed the day to come. “Explain to me again why I got up at an ungodly hour this morning, please?” Antti Niemi grumbled into the steaming mug of coffee as the man across from him chuckled. “Well, Seguin’s boyfriend’s teammate is having a birthday party that almost everyone is going too, so therefore, we are here.” Milan Lucic motion to the city of Vancouver as he smiled and sipped his drink.

“Ah, no matter where I go, I can never find coffee as good as this.” The Vancouver native smiled as Niemi raised an eyebrow. “I also long for the food of my homeland, what I wouldn’t give for a bit of Mämmi, but you people just don’t make birch bark bowls like you used to.” The Fin grinned and Lucic growled jokingly. “Making fun of me, are you?” The Bruin teased with a grin of his own. Niemi became abruptly serious. “No actually, my grandmother used to spend days crafting a perfect Mämmi bowl.” The Fin sighed at the thought of the old days, then raised his glass and promptly scalded his tongue on the coffee.

Niemi winced and lowered his cup with a moan of annoyance. “Bah, we finally get to go out in a place where no one will recognize us and we spend the time talking?” The Fin raised an eyebrow mischievously as Lucic was taken aback as his mind wandered through all the options of what Niemi could mean. After a moment Lucic grinned. “Want me to fix that hurt tongue of yours?” The forward grinned and proceeded to ‘fix’ the Niemi’s tongue by winding it together with his own.

Miles away two men stared into each other’s eyes as they sat in a breakfast restaurant similar to the coffee shop that housed Niemi and Lucic. “Scriv. Did you get something for this ‘Bieksa’?” The one man inquired and the younger man of the pair nodded happily. Joey Crabb smiled at his morning date, Ben Scrivens who just obliviously took a sip of coffee. A moment later Scrivens whistled at a passing man who was walking down the street looking rather disconcerted and confused. The man looked up and groaned, slightly limping his way over to the pair. “Yo! Kessel! WOS?” Scrivens grinned at the other man in question who just sarcastically grinned and rubbed his pounding head. Phil Kessel walked over and sat next to his teammates.

“Dude, I think I was abducted by aliens last night.” The Maple Leafs player grumbled without any preamble and Scrivens raised an eyebrow at his teammate. “If so, did the ‘probing’ go well?” The goalie inquired with a laugh as Kessel just drolly laughed.

“Wait, what does WOS mean?” Crabb interjected and Kessel leaned across the table, grabbing Scrivens’ coffee and draining it before responding. “Walk Of Shame.” Kessel groaned as the coffee ran out, the forward motioned to the waitress for more as Scrivens returned to eating. “Who was the lucky fellow?” The Maple Leafs’ goalie asked around a mouthful of pancake. Kessel groaned as the waitress refilled the coffee, the forward proceeded to scald his tongue and then theatrically hit his face against the table.

"That’s the worst part. I don’t remember, where the hell are we? I woke up and this is definitely not Toronto.” Kessel sounded a little panicked as he talked into the table.  Crabb laughed a little before receiving a death glare from Kessel. “We are in the lovely city of Vancouver, here to celebrate some Canuck’s birthday.” Crabb responded after a moment of silence.

Kessel lifted his head off the table quickly. ”How the fuck did I get to, and laid in, the west coast without remembering it?” The man inquired, sipping more coffee nervously. “A damn lot of alcohol.” A fourth voice interjected and Kessel glanced up to see his old flame, Benoît Pouliot standing over them looking rather smug. “How would you know exactly?” Kessel asked rather blearily. 

“Because I’m the one that was there with you.” Pouliot smiled to himself as comprehension dawned across the Maple Leaf’s trio. “WOS two?” Crabb inquired, trying to understand the strange term and his boyfriend, Scrivens whacked his head with a spoon to shut up the other Maple Leaf. “Shht. It’s getting interesting.” Scrivens murmured as Crabb sulked.

“Uh…h-how?” Kessel asked, feeling a little more awake all of a sudden. “Well class, when a man is in a dark room alone with another man, said man will—” Pouliot started and Kessel blushed, cutting the other man off mid sentence. “Yeah, yeah. I get that part, but how’d we get here.” Kessel growled, stressing the word ‘here’ and Pouliot grinned lightheartedly.  “You invited me, Reimer invited you and so now we’re here.” Pouliot smiled, leaning forward so his lips brushed Kessel’s ear.

“Although, I’d really prefer to take you to that hotel.”

Across town in a park two men took up only one spot one a bench as the one was sitting in the other’s lap. “Mmm. What time is it Ward?” The one on top inquired and the other shrugged. At the inconsiderate gesture the one on top broke off the kiss and gave the other a look. ”Alright, alright. It’s 10:57.” Cam Ward grumbled and his boyfriend primly pecked him on the cheek, sliding off his lap. 

“We should get going, I have to freshen up before this party.” Montreal Canadiens’ goalie Carey Price smiled, standing up and dusting his pants off. Ward grumbled a little but stood up after the other and as they walked off hand in hand Price smiled and hit his hip into the Carolina Hurricanes’ goalie’s. “And maybe…if you’re lucky we’ll have time for little something more.” The Canadien smiled as Ward salivated. “How much of something more?” The Carolinian inquired happily and Price’s grin widened. “Depends…what’s our record?”

Elsewhere in a hotel room, a different pair was trying to break a record of their own. “How many was that now?” Ben Eager inquired and his partner, Tanner Glass smiled, panting a little. “5 in the last two minutes I believe.” The ex-Canuck smiled as Eager gripped his stick a little tighter. “Why are we doing this again?” The Shark frowned as Glass licked his lips. “Come on, I challenged you to 10 in two minutes, think you can’t break my record?” The ex-Canuck smiled as Eager growled and putted another ball into the whole.

“Stupid excuse for a game.” The Shark grumbled as Glass restarted his stopwatch. “I give up.” Eager humphed a moment later as he spun and stalked back to the bed, Glass grinned, “You admit defeat?” The ex-Canuck’s grin widened as Eager pouted. “Yes. Come closer and see just how sad and defeated I am.” The Shark smiled a little as an unassuming Glass crept over, as soon as the other man was close, Eager leaned out and grabbed him, flipping Glass onto the bed with a smile as the other man snuggled up close.

“We have that thing at 4 remember? Think we have time?” Glass inquired cutely, coming up for air and Eager nodded, rather, well, eagerly. In a bar across the town two men fought, light smacks being exchanged as more than a few people stopped to watch with interest. “Ch-Chara, s-stop that, it tickles!” The one man giggled and the crowd all leaned forward, some taking photos, as the two men broke apart for air. A moment later they were back to kissing and soon the crowd was broken up by the irritated bar owner.

A disheveled pair was promptly kicked out onto the street by the owner who continued to cussing them out in Italian from the doorway. “Yeah? I’ve got a few words for you too, buddy! Si hlavu zo zadku.” Zdeno Chara shouted as the pair dusted each other off. “What did you just say, Char?” His companion, Alexander Ovechkin inquired with a slight smile as the pair started down the street.

Chara blushed a strange, reddish colour as Ovechkin waited. “Oh, just something along the lines of ‘get your head outta my ass’, it sounds more like an insult in Slovak.” Chara’s blush deepened as Ovechkin waggled his eyebrows. “I dunno, I don’t think I’d mind you shouting получите вашу голову в мою задницу, in bed.” Ovechkin grinned as he turned the phrase into a Russian turn on. 

Chara frowned, “What does that mean?” The taller man asked, although he knew he would later regret the question. Ovechkin’s grin widened and he slung an arm around the taller man’s waist as the Russian happily translated. “It means, get your head into my ass.”

In the same town but a little ways over, a pair sat down for lunch with another couple. “Hey Phany, you want a coffee?” David Krejci inquired then proceeded to order four coffee’s for the group. “So Krejci, you two looking forward to this party?” Fellow Bruin, Johnny Boychuk, grinned as he encircled his boyfriend in a protective arm. Tuuka Rask cuddled closer to Boychuk without even realizing it, then blushed as he noticed.  
Dion Phaneuf returned with the coffees and as the only non-Bruin in the group Phaneuf was feeling a little left out as the other three began to chat about teammates and injuries.

After half an hour of conversation that didn’t include him, Phaneuf growled and stood up, quietly leaving the trio to talk. A moment after the Torontonian captain left his boyfriend, David Krejci leapt up and rushed after him, making his excuses to his teammates. “Sorry Phany.” Krejci sighed and apologized as he saw Phaneuf leaning against a tree outside the restaurant. “Bah. It’s alright Krej, I just…I dunno.” The Maple Leaf hung his head and scuffed his shoes on the sidewalk as Krejci smiled.

“That’s alright, Boychuk always was a bit of a bore.” The Bruin laughed and Phaneuf smiled hesitantly back. The pair walked off, teasing each other as the pair inside the restaurant cuddled closer together without a care in the world. “Wanna head back Tuuka?” Boychuk inquired sleepily and Rask smiled, nodding back to his teammate. The pair pressed close together to defend against the cold as they walked down the street, hand in hand.

Christopher Tanev woke up in his tiny apartment and frowned at the empty bed beside him. “Hodg?” The young Canuck whispered, confused. But then he noted the distinct sound of the shower running and he sighed.  A few minutes of quiet later and Cody Hodgson reappeared, a towel hanging loosely off his hips. Tanev licked his lips at the view and smiled, perking up. “Hey Tanny, how’re you? Not to sore I hope.” Hodgson smiled nicely and Tanev shook his head vigorously to the last question. “I’m good, how’re you Hodg?” The older man replied with a smile as Hodgson laid back down on the bed beside him.

Hodgson pressed his face against Tanev’s bare shoulder as the other man shifted so he could wrap his arm around the younger Canuck. “You looking forward to this thingy for Bie at 4?” Tanev murmured into Hodgson’s hair as the younger man shifted his head a little. “Yeah, I guess.” The other man replied with a smile and a kiss. “I’m looking forward to seeing you there!” The younger Canuck smiled as Tanev laughed.  Hodgson could feel the older man’s laugh more than he could hear it, and the feeling was a nice, warming sensation that spread throughout his body. “I’m looking forward to seeing you there too.” Tanev replied, pecking Hodgson on the nose as the younger giggled.

Off in a hotel pool, two men were chasing each other back and forth across the length, the loser had to think of a good punishment for the winner and so on. “Got ya, Ro.” Ryan Clowe grinned as the other man sunk deep in the water and then lunged from the depths to capture his boyfriend in a close embrace. “I think your punishment is too…have to…wear a dress for me tonight!” Aaron Rome waggled his eyebrows as Clowe shrugged. “And you have to wear a skirt.” Clowe countered. “You haven’t even won yet!” Rome pouted and then smiled.

“Yes I have, I’ve caught you!” Rome encircled Clowe with his arms and it was the Shark’s turn to cry foul. “Hey! I wasn’t given a head start!” The San Jose player growled annoyed and Rome just smiled as he skirted away from the happily angry Clowe.

In a very different part of town, two men waited at the airport where they were causing a bit of a scene. The one man was sitting on the bench while the other sat on the top of the bench, his legs circling the man who was below him. It looked like a kid sitting on his father’s shoulder’s as there was quite an obvious age difference between the pair.

“Ooh, ooh I think I see him…no…wait…dammit. Do you see him Leigh?” The younger one asked and the other just grunted. “That’s the seventh time in the last hour you’ve seen him, Bray.” Michael Leighton commented and the man above him swatted his head playfully. A moment later the younger man was tapped on the shoulder and he spun around so fast he almost fell off the bench. “Bray, you gotta quit doing that, one day you’ll fall on your head, like that time when you were 5.” Luke Schenn commented dryly and his younger brother Brayden sat up straight on the bench with a mumbled. “Will not.”

“Good to see you again little dude.” Sidney Crosby laughed as Brayden grumbled at the pair. “Crosby.” Leighton stood and nodded in greeting. “Luke.” The goalie looked a little afraid as Luke Schenn raised an eyebrow.  “You been treating my little bro well, Leighton?” Luke inquired icily and Brayden gave his brother an exasperated look as Crosby chuckled. “Aw, come on Lu-Lu, loosen up a little, eh?” The Pittsburg player leaned forward to hug his taunt boyfriend from behind as Luke frowned.

“Yeah, Lu-Lu.” Brayden grinned and stuck out his tongue, leaning over to hug Leighton. Luke growled but relented as Leighton patted the younger Schenn on his back. As the two couples broke apart to walk down the street, Brayden commented. “Oh, and incidentally, Mom wants you to call her.”  “Bah, Mom always wants me to call her.” Luke grumbled and Brayden grinned. “Maddy misses you, do you really never visit them? Why don’t you and Cros come up some time?” The younger Schenn abruptly became serious and Luke stopped walking.

“Yeah? And have you told them about Leighton yet? I’m sure they’re thrilled.” Luke growled and Crosby murmured something about calming down. “No, of course not! That’s totally different! You know they’ll love you know matter what!” Brayden whispered in an angry tone and Luke looked taken aback.  “Bro. They’d love you no matter what too, what brought all of this on?” The elder brother murmured, much calmer as Brayden avoided meeting his eyes. “Mom asked why I don’t have a girlfriend.” The younger mumbled quickly and Leighton frowned as though he’d never heard about this.

“Yeah, so? They ask me that every time I see them!” Luke smiled hesitantly as Brayden looked away. “Yeah, but it was different this time, Luke. She seemed…angry.” Brayden murmured and the elder brother frowned. “I’ll talk to her about it and tell her to lay off, alright little bro?” Luke smiled again and Brayden shuffled his feet a little. The group began walking again, but the younger Schenn seemed a little distracted. In a quiet tone, so Crosby and Leighton couldn’t hear him, Brayden mumbled. “I may have accidentally mentioned something to Mom about…um…what she’d do if one of us was gay.”

Luke almost stopped walking as he fought back anger. “How the hell do you accidentally mention something like that?” The older Schenn growled and Brayden frowned. “I dunno, it just kinda came out of my mouth. And then she just gave me this look, like I was living on another planet.” The younger Schenn brother’s voice cracked a little as he continued. “And then she started on the sins of men being with other men, and about how I’d go to hell if I ever did something as heinous as that.”

Luke was really worried now, for his brother seemed really upset by this experience. “In the end I lied to her, I outright lied and said that of course I’d never do anything like that and that. And then she made me promise I would go find a nice girl to date. And…and…I dunno what to do now, Luke.” Brayden mumbled, his eyes swimming with indecision as Luke swung his arm around his brother’s shoulders.

“Brayden. Just do what you want. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve lied or broken my promises to Mom?” Luke ruffled his brother’s hair with one hand as Brayden smiled back weakly. “It’ll be alright, Bray. Just do what you want to.” The elder Schenn smiled as Brayden skipped ahead to hug Leighton. Crosby dropped back to kiss Luke as they watched Brayden stood on his tiptoes to plant a light kiss on Leighton’s cheek. The goalie spun to kissed Brayden deeply and Luke laughed. 

“I think they’ll be alright.” Luke smiled and Crosby raised his eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t approve?”  The d-man shook his head and grumbled. “If I didn’t approve I’d be turning into my mother, which I’m not.” Crosby laughed, and then shuddered. “I’m glad you’re not, I wouldn’t wanna bang your Mom.”

Deep in the heart of a bar elsewhere in town a man got up and laughed, stumbling forward as the man beside him steadied him. “Nugey. Whach ya doing?”  Michael Hutchinson asked drunkenly as the other smiled. “I’m doing nothing right now, wish I was though.” Ryan Nugent-Hopkins grinned at his goalie boyfriend who stumbled out of the bar. 

“I-I think I’ve had a few too many drinks.” The goalie slurred and the forward put his arm around to support the drunken man. “Really? That didn’t occur to you earlier when you almost got up thrown out of a decent bar for humping me?” Nugent-Hopkins teased as Hutchinson frowned. “I don’t remember that?” The goalie looked really confused and Nugent-Hopkins laughed. “That’s alright, I don’t either.” The forward added mysteriously and the goalie’s frown deepened as he tried to process the words. “Ah, so it didn’t happen?” The goalie’s face brightened, as he felt proud of himself.

“Doesn’t mean we don’t have time to try it out!” The forward grinned as Hutchinson nodded eagerly. “Alright!” The goalie agreed much too quickly as he placed a sloppy kiss on the forward’s mouth. “Mmm. You’re aggressive today!” Nugent-Hopkins grinned as Hutchinson nodded happily yet again. The pair grinned and proceeded to scare quite a few people away from the bar.

Elsewhere a pair was laid up as fans kept stopping them and asking them things. After one question the pair gave each other a look of exasperation and ignored the girl who’d shouted. “Are you two heading back to your hotel room right now?”  The goalie of the pair spun and clenched his fists at the inflection; true as it may be…He still didn’t appreciate it. “Why don’t you just go-” Dennis Seidenberg shut his buddy up by wrapping his hand around his mouth.

Martin Brodeur shot Seidenberg a dirty look and stalked off without another word a Seidenberg hurried after him. The fan followed the pair and shouted to Brodeur. “Why Seidenberg? Why not some other guy?” The fan grinned as Brodeur spun and growled. “There is absolutely nothing here.”  Seidenberg glared at Brodeur and almost said something as immediate fury overtook him at Brodeur’s tone. The fan raised her eyebrows as Seidenberg clenched his hands and stalked off.

Seidenberg muttered to himself, walking down the road to their hotel. The Bruin slammed the door to their room and knocked the pillows off the bed in fury. A moment later a slightly pissed off Brodeur unlocked the door to find Seidenberg sitting on the floor in a mass of fluff and pillows looking extremely angry.  
Brodeur gave Seidenberg a sarcastic look and said. “Don’t believe the puck bunnies man.”  The Bruin just glared at the goalie. “You little shit. Don’t friggen lie, you’re a bastard sometimes.” Seidenberg growled and Brodeur sunk into the mass of pillow fluff with his angry boyfriend.

“If you don’t wanna meet like this, just, you know, tell me rationally. Rather than shouting at a fan chick about it.” Seidenberg pouted and Brodeur rolled his eyes, pecking the other man on his lips. Brodeur grinned and Seidenberg’s anger melted away, so he simply stood, teasing the other man as he flounced off. The devil scrambled after Seidenberg who grabbed his coat and opened the door, holding it teasingly for his Brodeur. The devil smiled and followed the Bruin.  
“Hey, where are you going?” Brodeur asked and the Bruin grinned, walking down the straight white hallway with the other man closely following him. “I am going to find a gift for ol’ whats-his-name.” Seidenberg smiled and raised one eyebrow.

“And maybe…just maybe, we can find a little outfit for you.” The Bruin teased and Brodeur panted a little as he followed after the other man. “Higgins…Chris Higgins?” a man exclaimed and another spun, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Andrew Ference?” Higgins smiled and hugged the other man who grinned back. After a moment of backslapping and happiness the pair settled down to enjoy a beer.

“So…what’s happened since, well, you know, that night in Boston? I haven’t heard from you in months!” Higgins laughed and took another swig of his beer as Ference stared into Higgins’ eyes somewhat awkwardly. “Uh yeah…I’ve been good, playing hockey…you know, the usual.” The Bruin grinned hesitantly as Higgins nodded. “Yup. Me to.” After a moment of awkward silence, Higgins moved to stand up, but Ference grabbed his arm and downed the rest of his beer in one gulp.  
“Come on, let’s go!” The Bruin bounced up happily and the Canuck frowned as Ference dragged him out of the bar with a happy wave of a $20 bill to the bartender, who smiled and took the bill.

“Where are we going?” Higgins inquired and Ference grinned. “Remember that night in Boston?” The Bruin smiled sappily at the thought. “Well, I toured you around Boston, so now you get to show me around Vancouver.” “Ah, yes, alright, can we tour my bedroom first?” The Canuck salivated and Ference hit his arm in a teasing blow. “No.”  The Bruin laughed and jumped forward, skipping ahead of Higgins’ grasping hands.

Higgins walked forward and wound his arm around Ference’s waist. “So then what do you want to see?” The Canuck inquired, curious. “Um…Your favorite places?” Ference smiled and Higgins pouted. “But my favorite place is my house! Well, and the bar’s…”  “Ha, ha.” Ference drawled sarcastically and leaned over to kiss Higgins before he hailed a cab. “Alrighty, I give, we’ll see your house first.” The Bruin raised an eyebrow and stuck out his tongue. Higgins grinned as a cab pulled over and he shouted his address at the cabbie and pulled Ference into his lap and kissed his ear.

Soon the cabbie stopped and soon the pair were touring Higgins’ bed with a laugh as Ference found a particularly interesting spot. “Mm. Glad we met again.” The Canuck gasped out and the Bruin’s grin widened. “Ooh, let’s revisit that one place your left hand was just at!”

In another part of town, two hockey players awaited security coming back to let them out of the airport. “Why are they holding us again?” Corey Perry inquired, leaning his chair back with a grin.  “Um. I think you were suspicious looking.” Ryan Getzlaf laughed, Perry couldn’t help but notice how the other Duck’s face lit up with happiness, and pinched the other man’s cheek. “I was not!” Perry pouted and almost fell over backward in his chair.

“You were, you glared at that first security guard when he mentioned searching your carry on.” Getzlaf raised an eyebrow and Perry blushed. “I was tired…okay?” “Yeah, but even being tired doesn’t warrant you yelling at that guy who mentioned a strip search…” Getzlaf stuck his tongue out and smiled as Perry pouted. “Well…you know I don’t like that kind of thing.” The other duck mumbled and Getzlaf laughed again as the security guard returned.

“Alrighty fellows…” The guard sighed. “Let’s go, you’re being released.” Getzlaf stood and the guard undid the handcuffs before he marched the pair back out the door. As the pair walked free from the airport Perry couldn’t help but start bitching about the security guards.  “…and I can’t believe that!” Perry growled and Getzlaf just grinned, and patted Perry’s head. “Yeah, but at least we still have time for another strip search!”

The party night rose quickly and soon all the hockey players were waiting in Kesler’s house to surprise Bieksa, Kesler himself had left to get Bieksa with the lure of going out for dinner.

As they all sat there, silently waiting at 3:49, more than a few were very satisfied and relaxed. Ryan Kesler, who was feeling extremely nervous and excited, lied to his boyfriend, saying that he had to go home to get his wallet. Kevin Bieksa sighed when Kes told him to come in with him, but the burly d-man went along with the happy forward.

As Kesler opened the door to his house, he waited for Bieksa to step in before he turned on the light. Everyone held their breath as a somewhat grumpy Bieksa stepped into the house. “You ready yet Kes? I don’t wanna be waiting around for you again for another three hours so you can try on every shirt in your large wardrobe.” The Canucks d-man growled as Kesler squealed with excitement as everyone shouted “Surprise!!” and Bieksa jumped then laughed.

Then began the whirlwind of well wishes and hugs, as everyone seemed to be trying to wish Bieksa a happy birthday at once. Kesler laughed and clapped his hands at the surprised look on Bieksa’s face grew into a smile. The party slowed down soon as everyone began catching up with people they hadn’t seen in a long time. Henrik and Daniel spotted each other across the room and nodded, in sync. The twins shared a moment of asking how the other was, but then they wandered off in perfect unison. 

Niemi and Rinne exchanged a stiff ‘how are you’, while Weber and Lucic looked on disapprovingly. “No hard feelings?” Lucic offered with a hesitant grin, as he shook Rinne’s hand. The Predator’s goalie frowned and then nodded with pursed lips.  Niemi sighed and said, “Alrighty Rin, for old time’s sake.” He smiled and engaged in a passionate kiss with a startled Rinne as Weber growled and looked like they wanted to punch something, as Lucic smiled in apology to Weber and shrugged.

As the pair disengaged, Weber humphed and pulled Rinne back and away from the other man; Niemi just smiled and murmured something in Finnish, then made a speedy exit to the other side of the room, Lucic in tow. Ryan Kesler began making a drunken speech sometime later, before Daniel pulled him down off the table and convinced him that everyone didn’t need to know about the time Bieksa flashed a group of tourists when he was drunk.

“We were all there, Kes. You really don’t need to tell it all again, hell, half of us were the unfortunate tourists.” Daniel smiled and Kesler clapped him on the back murmuring a sullen ‘alrighty’. The party continued without any extreme mishaps until, about 3 hours late, Mason Raymond flounced through the door. Everyone turned in surprise and quieted as quite a few people gasped and began muttering to the person beside them.

Raymond frowned at the quiet gathering, and began making his way to the alcohol as people began talking again. He couldn’t talk to Bieksa or even look at him without alcohol in his system. Burrows was sitting at the bar, and when Raymond approached he smiled. “Remind you of old times?” the burly forward inquired as Raymond ordered vodka. “What?” The tiny forward replied, confused by the question. “Back when we used to be roomies, ‘member?” Burrows grinned as Raymond smiled. “Yeah, me amore!” The tiny forward saluted the burly one, and then wandered off. Raymond shivered as he glanced at Bieksa; he still couldn’t bring himself to actually go and greet the big d-man. 

Raymond suddenly was caught in the memory of himself angrily tearing up a team picture during the summer, and when he looked at it again, he realized that he’d intentionally torn between him and Bieksa. “You alright man?” An alcohol-labored voice inquired from behind him, and Raymond spun to see a shaky, lanky guy hiding behind another slightly burlier dude. “I’m sorry, who are you?” The slight forward inquired and the burlier guy smiled, “Oh, sorry. I’m Dustin Tokarski, and this is-” Tokarski, the drunk one, was interrupted by the smaller man. “I can introduce myself, Toka! I’m Alexsandr Burmistrov.” The tiny man smiled and stepped out from behind Tokarski, to shake Raymond’s hand.

“My name is Mason Raymond.” The Canuck introduced himself and the pair murmured polite nice-to-meet-you’s. “Are you alright?” Burmistrov asked, his honest brown eyes peering at Raymond through the curtain of his hair.

Raymond almost sighed, but restrained himself. “Yep.” He said shortly and smiled and nodded at the pair before wandering off again.  “May-Ray!” A drunk Burrows wandered up, his face alight with happiness. “Burrows, maybe you should lay off the drinks, eh?” Raymond hesitated, hopeful that the burly forward would listen to him. “Naw.” Burrows waved off the comment, and placed a sloppy kiss on Raymond’s cheek before wandering off singing an off-key version of O’Canada in French.  
Raymond gulped down another shot while he tried to summon the energy to go talk to Bieksa, as he finally walked towards the d-man, he barely noticed the crowd around him that was subtly watching him out of the corner of their eyes. 

“Bie.” Raymond whispered, standing right behind the burly d-man. It was just loud enough that Bieksa spun to meet the frightened eyes of the diminutive forward. “Uh…Mason…you’re here.” Bieksa stated, dumbfounded, and for a moment, all they did was stare into each other’s eyes.  “I-I uh…” Raymond shook his head and closed his eyes while he tried to act like he wasn’t remembering that time. Someone unknowingly shoved Raymond from behind and as his body connected with Bieksa’s a shiver ran through his body and Raymond jumped back. 

“I-I can’t, I’m sorry.” The tiny forward ran into the crowd, and Bieksa sighed and rubbed his face, trying to figure out how to apologize to Raymond. “What was that about?” Kesler inquired and Bieksa shrugged, “I dunno…” the d-man said distractedly, and Kesler kissed his boyfriend before murmuring that he was going to go find the upset Canucks forward.

Kesler found Raymond sitting outside on a bench, holding a lit cigarette in his hand. “It’s funny, cause I quit a few months ago.” Raymond said after a moment of complete silence, as he flipped the cigarette around in his fingers. “Yeah, hard to quit completely, I suppose.” Kesler murmured, sitting beside the upset forward.

The silence returned and they both just sat there, staring at the little point of light that was flipping around in the night air.

“I…I…” Raymond tried to think of what to say as Kesler looked at him, expecting the tiny forward to say something, anything. “How come Horton didn’t come?” Kesler finally asked, diverting the subject and Raymond shrugged, finally placing the cigarette in his mouth. “He just isn’t Bieksa’s biggest fan.” The forward muttered, drawing in on the cigarette. 

“Kinda like you, hunh?” Kesler inquired, then added. “Or maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t like Kev because you…have strong feelings for him.” “I don’t have strong feelings for Bie.” Raymond growled and took another hurried gasp of smoke in. “Yeah, you do. You used to love him, but now you are afraid of him, and I don’t know why.” Kesler said patiently, as Raymond threw the cigarette on the ground and stamped it out.

“I fucking hate him, okay?” The tiny forward growled, fumbling in his pocket for another cigarette, after a moment of silence, Raymond finally got the package out, and with his fingers shaking, he lit another one and stuck it in his mouth; sucking in the smoke like a starving man eats bread. “Yes. But why?” Kesler inquired, no more impatient than he had been earlier, just as calm as always.

“He fucking…he…” Raymond sputtered, drawing in some more smoke, and then he fell sullenly silent again. “Yes? You can tell me.” Kesler said patiently, and Raymond just got so pissed off at the other man’s calm demeanor that the forward stood up and growled. “He fucking took advantage of me, okay?” The tiny forward let a couple of tears roll down his cheeks as he took another harried breath of his cigarette.

Kesler was silent as he sat on the bench, and for a moment there was no movement from the pair, besides Raymond drawing in smoke and Kesler clenching and unclenching his hands. “And you can’t forgive him?” The burly Canucks forward growled in response and Raymond stomped his foot. “No, I can’t just fucking forgive him!” The small forward shouted and Kesler leapt to his feet, anger fueling his speed.

“You…you…just have to try, okay?” Kesler yelled, and Raymond shifted, taking another nervous sip of smoke. “How?” The tiny forward inquired softly, looking and sounding younger than normal. All the anger drained out of Kesler as he looked at the sorry picture that Raymond formed, his arms crossed and the cigarette lighting up his youthful face. 

“You just have to walk up to him and say ‘I forgive you’, it doesn’t matter how much willpower it takes, or how much it costs you to do, it’s important for the both of you.” Kesler rubbed his face in exhaustion as Raymond shook his head. “I don’t know if I can.” The tiny forward frowned at his cigarette, and Kesler sighed. “Alright man, do whatever you want, I’m going back in to see Kev again.”

Raymond nodded, somewhat distractedly, and Kesler turned to leave, but after a moment he turned back and quickly stole the cigarette away from Raymond’s hands. “Hey!” The forward said indignantly, as Kesler snuffed it out and threw it away. “That’s a dirty habit, and anyway, I thought you quit.” The forward said snidely, and Raymond humphed, almost agreeing with the other man.

Kesler left and after 10 minutes outside by himself, Raymond crossed his arms and decided to face his old friend. Raymond shivered once and began the long walk back to where Bieksa was. Raymond walked back into another world, where everyone was happy and excited, and they all liked Bieksa. The tiny forward sighed and marched towards the birthday boy. 

Bieksa stood in the corner, laughing with Sidney Crosby and Luke Schenn, but as Raymond approached, Bieksa’s smile fell away, leaving a grim sort of grief in place.

“Excuse me.” Raymond nodded to the Penguin and the Leaf, who both seemed to catch the silent cue, since they wandered off to talk with Kesler. “Listen Bie. I-I wanted to s-say that I-I forgive you.” Raymond let out a sigh of relief after he got the words out, and Bieksa’s mouth fell open. “I-I I’m so, so sorry Mas.” The burly birthday boy offered a hesitant smile and the tiny forward nodded.

“I know…I just…I forgive you.” The forward repeated and then spun to leave, and Bieksa stopped him with a kiss, a full, deep kiss. Raymond groaned and leaned into it without thinking, and as Bieksa broke the kiss off, he mumbled. “Please remember that instead.” Raymond touched his lips as his mouth parted in awe. Raymond blushed and smiled hesitantly at the embarrassed d-man.

The scene zooms out to see Ron MacLean sitting, watching the proceedings from afar, he smiles, happy that he has managed to fix the whole issue that Don Cherry created between Kevin Bieksa and Mason Raymond.

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty perfect, hmm?
> 
> This is my favorite of all the short stories I've ever written. :)


End file.
